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I look in the mirror and I don't see what I want to see. I wish I could say that it is a young woman with poise. Clean, strong, bright, desirable in a conventional way. Instead, it is only tired eyes, disheveled purple hair, flashes of metal in various parts of my face. The look of a girl who doesn't belong. The fear I feel can't be hidden if my life depended on it, and sometimes it feels like it does. I look like I'm perpetually stuck in high school, where the thrill of rebellion is the only thing that keeps me afloat. I'm not like other girls. The only compliments I receive have nothing to do with my character or features. I can pull it off. I'm brave. Eccentricity does not usually mean beauty. People see the good and creativity in nature, and there is not a thing about me that can be considered as such. This is the one thing that keeps me crawling back into the company of others. It is the part of me that craves to be accepted by my peers, and it is the part that is vain and senseless. It is my greatest source of pain and outrage, but I can't live without it. I look this way, she looks like that. I'm always staring, but never really seeing anyone. My fixation on the outside is my greatest flaw.

I wish I could tell you that my words and thoughts are infinite. Even as I write now, I imagined at the beginning I could go on for much longer. I'm simply not capable. I don't want to disappoint, and I fear I will.  I look in the mirror and besides not being impressed by appearances, I see a girl who is small and stale. There isn't much here. I can talk and hold your attention for now, but soon enough I will exhaust my knowledge of internet memes and video games and books and random trivia. I'm no more interesting than any other girl, least of all the ones I admire and desire so desperately to look like. My lack of self-esteem begs and warns not just you, but everyone else I meet to run in the opposite direction.

Know thyself. Sometimes I think to myself, "I'm hyper self-aware." I make a mental checklist of all the things I am. I am paranoid, defensive, abrasive, dependent, scared, indecisive, and cynical. I push others away and stew in self-loathing all the days, intermittently crying out for the slightest bit of care and affection. I'm confused.

Who I am is not who I want to be. I yearn to be a person who sees the good in everything. I believe in grace and love. I want to kiss strangers on the cheek and genuinely ask people about their days. I want to do everything because it exhilerates me and leaves me with an indescribable feeling of wonder at the world. I never want to hesitate again. I long for wisdom. I do see beauty in the world, but I never have the courage to  face it.

I know who I've been. I am always blindsighted by the parts of myself I don't feel as though I can question. Personality is predisposed, change is impossible. Is that right or wrong? I know I'm not who I used to be. I've learned to be optimistic. This time, I write down a checklist of all the things I am becoming, because it is tangible and writing makes me feel alive. Romantic, expressive, independent, thoughtful, beautiful. I am beginning to feel as wonderful as I've been told I am. I feel like a girl who belongs.